Secrets of the Heart
by ElectricEnchantment
Summary: Morgana is heir to the throne and Uther sends his only son to try and win his crown back; but what happens when the two people who are supposed to hate each other full deeply in love? Can they keep their romance a secret, or will the truth finally spill?
1. Chapter 1 The Princess and the Pendragon

**Please note!**

**In this story, Morgana is Princess, heir to her father- Gorlois's throne, they rule over Avalon and she and Arthur DO NOT know each other. Uther is not King and unlike the show, there are many Kingdoms but one **_**crown**__, _**thus being only one **_**Royal **_**family. This story is strictly AU. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to PM me! :)**

**Chapter 1**

_**The Princess and The Pendragon**_

The sun broke through the window with a welcoming glow, it illuminated the stone walls and made everything seem glorious and magnificent. It's wonderful rays caught the jewels laid bare in their box and made them gleam and sparkle like a thousand tiny stars, the rays remained still on one armchair, making one small ginger haired cat exceedingly happy as it laid curled in a content ball, soaking up the heat that the morning sun brought.

And finally, the rays shone brightly on a bed, the twinkling flash of the overly bright sunshine made Morgana snap her eyes open to the overbearing light, before she huffed and groaned and rolled over to face away from the horrid sunshine that had awoken her from a peaceful slumber.

The bright sun which was high and mighty in the sky, against a hazy blue sky meant that she would have to get up and spend her day doing nothing and everything at the same time. For she hadn't the faintest idea of what her father had planned for her, or whether he had planned anything at all; he was such an unpredictable King, it was true.

"You sleep in on such a wonderful day." Greta told her, the strong pang of her German accent glossed over every word, at first Morgana had a hard time hearing what she said, and when she was just a girl she had been as blunt and as rude to comment on it, but Greta had taught her manners and politeness, and now her accent was nothing at all.

"And you wake me from such a wonderful dream." Morgana groaned with a playful smirk as she pulled herself up from her warm bedclothes, not denying that the heat was now irritable, and instantly it had made her wide awake, she even wondered how she could sleep with such warmth radiating through her walls.

"Does father wish me to do anything today?" Morgana asked as she climbed out of her bed, feeling the full wrath of the sun on her skin as she leant on the stone wall and looked out to the courtyard below from the window of her bedroom.

"The King is off to Canterbury for the day, I doubt he'll be back until late this evening." Greta informed her as she made her way over to the bed Morgana had just climbed out of, beginning to make it neatly.

"Oh…" Morgana nodded, somewhat glad that she could spend this wonderful day doing nothing at all, she preferred it that way.

"Come, get dressed." Greta fussed, shooing her behind her changing screen. Greta was not one to see girls rise late and waste their day.

"Alright." Morgana frowned, giving her small attitude in her tone before she began to change, whilst Greta fussed around cleaning, and then she assisted Morgana with the fastening of her gowns and the doing of her hair.

…

The sun's rays beat down hard upon Morgana's head as she strolled through the forests, leaving her horse at the foot of the wood to bathe in the shelter of some trees. She felt the top of her head and it burned, her glossy black hair boiling from the heat of the sun. She was sweating a great deal, feeling all hot and bothered, her dresses were seemingly too thick for this type of weather, although Greta had told her that these were her 'summer garments', however Morgana thought it wise for her to invest in another dressmaker because these oppressive dresses were simply _too_ warm in the flourished Summer heat.

She panted and huffed, as though the heat was draining all liveliness from her, she felt sticky and humid and overall quite horrible. Now, all she wanted to do was lie down on the soft patch of grass and let the sun have her, allow it to suck what energy remained in her limp body until the stifling heat finally absorbed her whole and made her eyes fall shut; the thought was heavenly, but she doubted Greta would be too pleased that the Princess was found sleeping in the middle of the forest, nor would Greta appreciate that she had ventured away out here by herself. Morgana had informed her over an hour ago that she was only going to stay in the Palace gardens, but such gardens got excessively boring- there was nothing to look at or see, it was just rows of short hedges with the odd rose bush here and there, with paved paths and everything was shut off with a thick, sandstone wall, so no one could see out nor in.

To Morgana a garden was something that grew wild and untamed, with fresh flowers blooming at every inch of space, where the birds nested in glorious tress that bordered its natural essences, instead of a stony wall that was consumed by hideous ivy.

Morgana let out a forceful sigh before she decided that she simply _had_ to sit. Now she regretted coming here in this infuriating heat, she dreaded the walk back to her horse and the strength she'd need to kick it in the ribs to take her home. It was midday and the sun was at its peak in the blue sky, perhaps she'd wait a little while, until the sun sunk a bit and her energy would be restored, Greta would hardly notice.

Morgana sunk to the green grass; it was cool but had little relief from the bothersome sun. She sat back against a tree and yawned, feeling drowsy but the heat had made her content, if she thought about the warmth too much she was sure she'd faint, and the tiredness was captivating her.

The forest was thick and vast around her, but the path which led the way from the Palace to an outlining village laid bare, the mud had dried and turned to dust, Morgana heard the birds chirping and singing to one another, in truth it was a glorious day and she could complain all she liked but, it was her own fault for venturing so far on a day like today. Tomorrow perhaps she _would_ sit in the gardens and draw, or even sew by her window- anything was better than what she had suffered today.

However, the loud melodic thuds of horse's hooves awoke her from whatever stance of slumber she was submerging in. It alarmed her, but not enough for her to want to get up; strangely. Until the thuds grew closer and closer, when it dawned on her that it was merely a passer-by, surely.

Morgana pulled herself from the grass, yawning and feeling that it would be best if she decided to head back now, Greta would scold her regardless as though she was her seven year-old self again.

She kept into the side of the path, careful that the commanding horseman didn't nip her toes.

She walked in the same direction of the horse, hearing the gallops slow behind her to a slow trot; she turned her head to see why he had slowed and not continued to plough past and ignore her.

The man sat atop his spirited white stallion, wearing armour and looking so brash and gallant, with daring sea blue eyes and striking blonde hair that the sun's rays danced upon in glorious splendour. His lips were pulled into the most charming smile and his eyes were as warm as the pleasing sun above.

To Morgana he seemed everything a bold and daring Knight should be, he seemed so adventurous, and he was so handsome, he looked picturesque right there upon the saddle of his horse, like something she would have found in many of her books about confident and swashbuckling Knights defending their Kingdom. Sadly, the Knights in her father's Kingdom didn't look so fetching.

Morgana realised she had forgot herself in the beauty of his appearance, and decided to shoot him a smile of her own, which he replied, making her heart dance and flutter in her chest. She worried that she might have lain in the sun too long and it had melted her brain to that it oozed down into the beating heart in her chest, so she was infatuated with the simplest thing. But then she looked at him again and wondered how she could be so silly, _anyone_ would be captivated by such a bold looking man.

A glorious yet teasing smile played upon his lips as he moved slowly alongside her now on his horse. Morgana was simply smitten by it.

"What is a fine maiden like you doing wandering the woods all alone?" He asked, his voice would have had her weak at the knees; she was besotted in those sea blue eyes, taken by the rapture of his tone, that she almost forgot to answer his question.

"A Lady doesn't tell her business to strangers." She replied, the same teasing smirk plain upon her own lips as she gazed up to him bashfully, to hear a small abundant laugh escape his lips at her reply.

"Well, would you like to share my saddle and I can take you to the forest edge?" He asked, and she was sure now that his princely attire had won her over completely, to share a saddle with him, where she could freely wrap her arms around his waist, her fingers against the small links in his armour. She could grip him tightly and hold him to her, as though he was her prized possession, and just any excuse to be closer than she already was.

"That won't be necessary." She replied, wanting to kick herself silly when she did. "But my own horse waits just at the end of the path." She told him with a polite smile, although hating that she had turned done his friendly offer. Of course, it was the wisest thing to do. For, he would ask where she lived and she would have to say the Palace, and then he would either laugh in mockery or bow to his knees, and she wanted neither.

"Well then, perhaps I'll walk you to your own horse." He added, feeling confident and assertive that she could not escape. She nodded her head in agreement, wanting to spend a little while longer with this fine fellow on his stark white steed.

They walked in silence for a moment, the birds made up for any awkwardness as they sung merrily in their branches, but soon- the man spoke again.

"What is your name?" He asked, the light huffs from his horse made her glance up.

Name. She couldn't tell him hers, for then he would know she was royalty and then he would fall to her feet claiming silly titles and stating that he was 'honoured with such acquaintances', she was positive he would treat her differently, everyone did. There was something brash and contenting about him seeing her as a common maiden, he perhaps thought her the daughter of a blacksmith; but then she was dressed to finely for that. Perhaps the daughter of a Lord? There was still something thrilling about it all, regardless.

"I don't think I'll bother with names." She replied, the same coy tone playing over her lips as she glanced up at him once again, realising how beautiful he truly looked. "A name is just a name, nothing more. It's the person that counts." She told him, her tone beguiling and vexing.

"Well…" He replied after her words had seeped in. "I suppose you're right." He nodded, knowing she was correct in all her wisdom, who she was or where she was from; he had no idea, just that she looked utterly superb in her flowing lilac gown, her eyes were mesmerizing, they shone out bright green against her chalky skin, like dazzling emeralds against a bleached pallid rock, her hair hung in waves around her face, thick, dark and ravenous. She seemed so bold, so audacious in her ways, teasing and taunting him in her trifle little gestures; there was something about her…

But, before he could come up with another reply, he realised a horse stood in front of them; a dapple grey mare, which chewed at the green grass and gnawed it between its teeth like a farming cow.

"Well, it seems our journey is at its end." Morgana told him, sighing that she had to leave this stranger now, she was worried with herself however, she would have freely gone off with this man, allowed him to nestle her in the safety of his arms just because he looked daring and bold; he could be anyone. Yet, oddly enough there was something about him, something that meant she instantly trusted him, and it wasn't those sparkling sapphire eyes or that gracious golden hair, it was something she couldn't quite place…

Morgana pulled herself up upon her mare, grabbing the reigns and positioning herself like a true horsewoman. Looking to the man again, feeling her heart sink, that she might never see those eyes or that wonderful smile again, she knew she would be kept up in the haunting hours of the night remembering that face.

"Will I see you again?" He asked, trying to conceal the desperation in his tone, obscuring it with a more definite and assure attitude.

"Who knows?" Morgana replied teasingly. "Only time will tell." She spread her lips more evenly now into a fine smile, one that said everything she could not bring to words. She hoped she'd see this stranger again, she hoped she could have more than just a futile exchange of words, but a deeper, meaningful conversation. She highly doubted it however, she was heir to her father's throne, such wild and untamed romances only happened in novels, and as fleeting as ensnaring a romance with this man sounded, she understood that it could never be.

And, with a final glance at his beautiful face, she dug her feels into her horse's ribs and set off down the path, the only thing keeping her going was the extreme beauty of his face and how it lingered as vivid in her mind as it did in her heart.

…

"Where have you been?" Greta frowned furiously as Morgana sauntered through the castle.

"I was out riding." Morgana told her casually, giving a small yawn; how the day had worn her out, the sun had simply sucked every ounce of energy she had left.

"Riding?" Greta hissed, infuriated with the princess. "What have I told you about riding out alone, by yourself?" She placed her hands on her hips; her dark eyebrows pulled furiously, although Morgana would not meet her stern gaze, Greta always made a big deal over the silliest of things.

"Oh please Greta, I'm not a child!" Morgana rolled her eyes at how silly her maid was getting on over everything, making a fuss over nothing.

"No- _you are a Princess_!" Greta snarled angrily. "It is entirely inappropriate for you to be galloping out whenever you please." Her maid was growing more enraged and Morgana was sure smoke would fuse from her ears if she didn't calm herself down.

"And it's entirely inappropriate for you to be making such a fuss!" Morgana growled, walking past her maid, tossing her eyes again and huffing loudly as she marched up the stone steps, where she could sprawl herself upon the cool covers of her sheets and dream of the stranger in the woods.

"Your father is back! And he wants to see you urgently in his chambers!" Greta shouted after her, and Morgana froze on the stairs and huffed loudly. She was sure Greta had told on her, touted on her Lady like a small child would do, Greta was so immature and stupid sometimes. Now Morgana was sure she'd get a lecture from her father for straying away from the castle alone, he would shout and she would have to listen and nod along to his words, whilst he would accuse her of showing attitude, then he would continue with how she was 'heir to the throne', she could recite her father's scolding by heart now, and if her mother was there she would agree, nodding vigorously like an obedient dog.

…

"Come in." Gorlois said at the light knock from the door, seeing Morgana curl her head around the wood with a cheerful smile, a smile she only saved for her father.

"Morgana." He smiled sweetly and gestured for her to sit down across from him.

Morgana couldn't help but wonder why he seemed to upbeat and happy, wasn't he readying himself for shouting at her? His disappointed face would be better suited.

"I have news for you, urgent news." His gruff voice echoed through the room, packed out with bookshelves, whilst he dwindled over documents, she was surprised how he could work in such a dark room, and he was missing out on all the sunshine outside.

"Yes father, what is it?" Morgana asked precipitously, wondering what he could mean, or why any important council business would matter to her.

"We have visitors arriving… tonight." Gorlois spoke gravely now, as though something bad would occur, but he saw the obliviousness in his daughter's eyes, so he decided to go on.

"The Pendragon's- or one Pendragon seemingly." Gorlois told her, and Morgana felt her heart skip a beat, whilst she felt the smallest bit panicked.

The Le Fay's and Pendragon's never got along, for many, many years. Uther and Gorlois feuded aggressively, as did their ancestors and theirs before. Morgana had never met any of the Pendragon's before, and she was somehow glad she didn't have that inconvenience. Her father had always said they were low and conniving, treacherous and scheming, with not an ounce of gratitude in their heart.

"Why?" She spoke out at once.

"Uther writes… He claims his son, _Arthur_ is passing through and he wonders if he would be welcome in my castle for a few nights." Gorlois played with the letter in his hand and growled under his breath as his stern grey eyes skimmed over the words.

"It's just like Uther… He has sent his son here for something… Why would a Pendragon be up around my territory, just passing through? He's up to something." Gorlois snarled and groaned angrily, before he met his daughter's eyes once again.

"Why do you hate him so much?" Morgana regretted the words as soon as they left her lips, but in truth she needed to know. All her life she had memories of her father growling on about these Pendragon's, all she knew was how they had disputed against her family, and these quarrel had lasted longer than her grandfather's time, but she had never been given a reason, and when she had asked she was scolded.

Gorlois sighed, he didn't get angry at his daughter for being curious, he suspected she would want to know, he would have to warn her after all, and that time had come.

Morgana knew little of how the war began; but her father had spoken briefly about it as she was growing up. The people of the land had forgotten the quarrel, and in truth no one _really _knew why it was still in place; if Morgana was to take her father's throne, she would need to know why these Pendragon's were so untrustworthy.

"The Le Fay's were magic born, many years ago…" Gorlois sighed finally, beginning the tale, looking sternly at his daughter, for Morgana needed to understand how serious this truly was.

"Magic?" Morgana repeated with her eyes wide.

"Yes." Gorlois told her. "Of course, as the generations passed, the magic slithered out; there isn't a living relative today with a drop of magic in their blood." Her father explained, but she already knew this, magic was rare and only a lucky few possessed the gift, all she possessed was hideous nightmares that haunted her in the darkness of the night.

"And, long before my time; the Pendragon's ruled the land." He said hatefully, the name 'Pendragon' slipping off his tongue like the bitter taste of lemon.

Morgana knew better than to say anything however, she sat content, letting him finish, all her questions would be answered in the end, she was sure.

"The Pendragon's didn't like magic; they burned our people, calling their gifts a curse." Morgana swallowed, knowing that the prospect of being burned at the stake seemed truly horrid, she had remembered the times when her maid would keep her from going near the window as a child, when her father- the King- burned people for their crimes, she would climb into her bed and curl in a ball, using the pillow to drown out the hideous cries from the people in agonizing pain, and as much as she begged her father, he told her that it was something a King must do, and something she would have to do one day, but she promised herself that there had to be an easier way to go rather than having amber flames lick and consume naked skin.

"So, our ancestors rose an army, a rebellion- magic is a powerful thing…" He spoke, his cold words making her shiver, and now she was glad she showed no signs of bearing a magical gift.

"They broke into Camelot, murdered the King and his wife, they used their powers for good." Morgana couldn't help but raise a brow at her father's words. She didn't count killing people as an act of good, but she knew better than to comment on it, her father would kick off in a rant of fury.

"They took the throne, _we won it_." Gorlois sounded so victorious, strangely it made Morgana feel slightly sick.

"You didn't win anything." She frowned, she wasn't sure what her father saw in this story, but she saw deceit and betrayal.

Her father's face changed into anger and irritation, it was then Morgana regretted not thinking before she spoke first.

"The Pendragon's killed our people!" He snapped; the lines on his face more prominent than before as he glared at Morgana, as though she was a stranger in his own Kingdom.

"And we killed theirs!" She growled back, her father didn't like when she raised her voice to him, but she didn't have a choice- how could her father possibly see any right in what he had told her?

"Would you rather our ancestors let the Pendragon's kill our people?" Gorlois asked bitterly, being patronizing in his tone as he glowered at her.

Morgana shook her head, knowing she would get absolutely nowhere with her father on this matter, so it was best to just back down and let him sing glory of this argument.

Gorlois saw that she looked regretful in what she had said, so he backed down in his chair and softened his tone. She was young, she would understand how it was someday, he only hoped; she was inheriting this Kingdom after all, she didn't want her to do something stupid- which brought them back to more pressing matters.

"Uther _sends_ his son, I know it." He went back to their previous topic as he stared at her, longing her to see how serious this was. "Uther has always tried to steal back his throne from me…" Gorlois spoke bitterly and Morgana couldn't help but let a small smirk appear on her lip, she hid it immediately in case her father saw. Uther couldn't _steal_ what was already his.

"And he has lost with me, we are both old men now… You are my heir, so he has sent his son to try and bargain my crown from you." Gorlois told her, this situation was more sombre now, Morgana would have to guard the throne like it was everything to her, and it was.

"Why doesn't he just start another war to win it back?" Morgana suggested, feeling slightly idiotic for proposing such an idea, she should be pleased he hadn't gone to such measures, but her father merely laughed at her recommendation.

"Because he would lose!" Gorlois chuckled, as though he were demeaning his daughter before him. "I'm a King, I have more armies and Knights that he could ever dream of- if he claimed war he'd lose within the hour." Gorlois laughed, Morgana picked up the sadism in his tone, and it scared her slightly, and made her feel uneasy.

"So, why don't you claim war?" Morgana felt much more confident with this suggestion.

"Morgana…" Uther shook off her silly suggestions and looked at her as though she were a small child. "Uther and I keep on good terms; we keep each other sweet; both of us want to avoid a war at any cost… I can't deny his son a place here or it will give him every excuse to rebel, but I need you to understand…" He took her hand in his own and met her emerald stare, an emerald stare she had inherited from her mother; thankfully she didn't inherit her mother's coldness.

"This boy- whoever he is; go on walks with him, talk to him, tell him what he wants to hear." Morgana nodded at his suggestions. "But, the throne is yours, not his- remember that. You must be strong and resilient to whatever he wants of you, and he will try his hardest to win you over." Gorlois explained and Morgana nodded, this seemed very serious.

"The Pendragon's are forbidden, remember that- keep away from them at any cost." Gorlois concluded and Morgana half smiled at her father.

"Don't worry father, I won't fall madly in love with this boy and run off and marry him in secret." She winked, adding some light heartedness to the situation, which seemed so very heavy.

Gorlois chuckled merrily, before he let go of her hand set back on his chair. That was another trait Morgana had taken from him, that daring and wicked sense of humour of hers.

"Now that really would mean war." He let out another chuckle before he glanced to the papers on his desk. "Go get ready for your guest." He shooed with another chuckle and she laughed in reply, before she left his chambers and headed to her own.

…

"Remember what your father told you." Greta fussed as she pulled the strings of Morgana's dress at the back, so the periwinkle blue gown fused in at the waist tastefully.

"I know, I know…" Morgana brushed her off. "I'll tell this boy what he wants to hear." She rolled her eyes at how much Greta seemed to get bothered by such things, and it was terribly annoying.

"Well, good-just as long as you listen." Greta gave a small frown, she still hadn't let their quarrel in the hallway go from earlier and how Morgana had disobeyed her, she often thought Morgana was too defiant, had she been her own daughter she would have found her own means of discipline.

"God Greta, I'm not going to latch onto the first man I see and fall madly in love with him, I'm not a parasite!" Morgana growled, Greta had such a bad understanding of young girls, but it was possibly because it had been so long since Greta had been a young girl herself, Morgana had always remembered her with dark hair which had violent streaks of grey striping through it, although her hair was always pulled back in a tight bun that made her seem scary and terrifying, Morgana always imaged her to be like the witches in her storybooks.

Greta frowned and tousled the rest of Morgana's hair, which flowed miraculously down her back, with either sides pulled back and fastened with a sparkling blue sapphire, Morgana couldn't help but be reminded of the stranger in the woods when she saw it, and she sighed like a lovesick fool at the memory.

"I think it's completely ridiculous that I have to get all dolled up at this hour of the night, I'll only be greeting him and then be returning to bed." Morgana rolled her eyes, everything was so stupid. Couldn't the servants greet him and she could acquaint herself with him come morning?

"He is a Pendragon!" Greta hissed, and Morgana rolled her eyes a second time.

"Alright Greta." She nodded quite patronizingly as she made for the door and left, walking down the corridor carefree of the crimes she _seemed_ to have committed against her maid, she couldn't help but hear Greta muttering under her breath however, it only made Morgana chuckle.

…

Oscar, the tall and rather awkward looking Guard who stood at the top of the stairs smiled to her, Morgana liked him more than anyone in the castle. He had always been there, for as long as she could remember, although he really wasn't that much older than her, she could tell him absolutely anything, and he would always keep her secrets and defend her when Greta came to scold, and Greta _loved_ to scold.

"He's _just_ arrived." Oscar informed her as she passed. Morgana sighed, but her smiled remained prominent.

"Thank you, I'm rather curious as to who these Pendragon's are…" She gave an inquisitive peek over the banister. "I hope he's nice to look at." She confessed but laughed, in truth she didn't really care, but it would help, considering she had to spend so much time with him.

"Well, I doubt he could resist such beauty anyway, despite his looks." Oscar gave a little wink and Morgana laughed in a moderate tone, not loud enough for the man downstairs to raise a brow.

With that little reserved remark, Morgana made her way downstairs, to see this man; the Pendragon. She sighed and wished it was over, hoping in all truth that he would leave sooner than hoped; it was bad enough having a day dominated by her father, let alone having to entertain a stranger. However, he might be nice and sweet and kind and she might enjoy his company, but she doubted it, these Pendragon's were treacherous after all.

Finally he came into her sight, and Morgana's mouth fell ajar. In all beauty and exquisiteness that he was, surely nothing could have prepared her for this.

His hair was a dashing shade of golden blonde, and his lips were pulled into the same courteous smile she remembered, he looked just as bold and as charming as he had done when she last set eyes upon him, maybe even more so. He looked rugged and burly; the hair that would have usually hung down his forehead was swept back, stuck with the sweat of the summer heat. But the thing that shone out most from his valiant attire, was his beautiful shining sapphire eyes, that twinkled and gleamed in the low candlelight, they had her smitten and truly besotted, Morgana almost felt her heart melt and ooze in her chest when her eyes were brought back to those charming, full moist lips of his…

"Princess Morgana." He bowed, awakening her from the dream she was sure had captivated her. Arthur neared her, and grasped her shoulders, planting a delicate kiss on her cheek.

He smelt so masculine, of sweat mixed with brash battle and bold courage. Everything a man should smell like, as though he had stepped out of one of her dreams, although she knew there would be no sleeping for her tonight, for now the reality was better than the dream itself.

"Arthur… I believe." She spoke finally, her voice crisp in the low wrath of the moment she had swept herself up in.

"Are we bothering with names?" Arthur cheekily raised a brow at her, and she blushed, wanting to kick herself for acting like such a fool- she had to be bold and resilient, strong and brave like her father had said.

"Hush- someone might hear." She told him, with a vexing smile apparent on her lips, as she glanced to the many guards behind her, and Greta who stood atop of the staircase, still with that unflinching frown on her brow.

"Welcome to Avalon." She said her Kingdom's name with pride, but her smile was unfaltering to the man before her. "We are so happy to have you with us; I hope you enjoy your stay." She spoke loudly, so everyone around her would hear, she had to keep up appearances after all.

"Thank you, Milady." He gave a small curtsey, but his smile was so playful it was hard to take him seriously.

"I'm sorry my father could not be here to great you- he will be will us tomorrow for breakfast tomorrow however if you wish to join us." She explained, feeling so false, she barely ever spoke like this, with her mannerisms and that, but if she didn't Greta would tell her father and her father wouldn't be best pleased, especially when there was a Pendragon involved.

"It would be a pleasure." He told her, and she gave a small nod to his approval.

Morgana turned to leave, stealing one last glance at his perfect face, a face she was _sure_ she'd never see again, but it seemed this man was no longer a stranger, this man was her enemy. And as ravishing as he looked, she could never have him, she had to be faithful to her father, this was his Kingdom and she would inherit it one day.

But there was no harm in looking.

_**A/N**_

**Hello! Another story from me, it's becoming an addiction I'm afraid. Anyway, I feel confident enough with this story, I have quite a lot planned for it. Hmm, but it would be lovely if you could all tell me what you think of this first chapter! :) I thought it would be a nice AU for Morgana to be the Royal one for once! I'm sorry this chapter is so horribly niche however! I promise the next chapters won't be like that. Forbidden Love really defines this whole story, so if you're into that then I'd urge you to keep reading if you like what you've already read… I'll shut up now, and hope all you lovely people are kind enough to share your thoughts on it! :D**

**I also apologize for any stupid mistakes that I've become prone to making…**


	2. Chapter 2 In the Safety of the Storm

**Chapter 2**

_**In the Safety of the Storm**_

The next morning, Morgana rose from her slumber, having realised she had had the most wonderful dream. When she realised the content of this dream however she shook it off immediately. Arthur was no longer a stranger in the woods, Arthur was now practically her enemy, she could not hope to dream of his golden scruffy hair or deep sapphire eyes again, but she doubted her subconscious would listen.

Breakfast went by quite fast. Her mother complained about the food, as she always did and Gorlois would frown and brush her off with great annoyance. The King had asked Morgana intently on what Arthur had said and done last night, she had told him it was nothing more than a simple hello and goodbye, and that she had invited him to breakfast; however he didn't seem to show up.

But just at that Arthur had wandered into the hall, explaining he had overslept and he truly seemed quite bashful of the whole idea of missing breakfast with a King. Gorlois however had brushed him off with merry chuckles and told him 'not to be silly'; however the King seemed rather glad. That is when he invited the young lordling to dinner this evening.

Morgana had shot him a smile as she passed to leave, and Arthur had replied it quite fondly and dare she say; even with some cheekiness. But she merely brushed it off, a yearning heart believed what it would.

…

Morgana walked through the high gardens of the palace later that day, the stony, chalky walls of the garden shone brightly against the sunlight, looking at it made her eyes hurt as though she were glaring at the sun.

Her dress flowed behind her, with light lemon coloured arms, and large sweeping sleeves, glittered and adorned with small lemon coloured roses amongst the seams. The waist and skirt of her dress was a pale green, and the lemon voile material continued from the sleeves and crossed over the breast.

A small, yet very hyperactive beagle scurried along behind her. He had a light, golden face with slightly darker tanned ears, his legs seemed too long for his body so he had a rather gangly and awkward disposition as he pounded along behind her with his tongue hanging out, he was only a young pup which her father had gotten for her in the past Winter when he had left her too long, he had went to visit a friend in the north, and ended up staying the entire winter because the snow made it to treacherous to travel, he had given her the dog as a gift and an apology for his departure, he had given her mother a golden chained necklace, which she 'lost' two days later, however Morgana had no doubt that she had sold it pawned it for something better.

Morgana walked along the path, the trees which grew beyond the wall hung over it and made for shelter, shelter she was glad of in this unbearable heat. A figure stood at the end of the path, looming down on the rest of the sloped garden, with small hedges cut out in a maze that went no higher than her knee, and rose bushes bloomed gloriously at every metre. In the centre of the lawn where large, monstrous sized hedges cut into the shape of a stag, her house sigil.

Arthur hadn't noticed her yet, but he would, if it wasn't for the loud sounded her dog made as the pads of his feet hit the hot sandstone path that glittered in the sunlight, a glorious white shade.

"Hugo…" She whispered to her dog as he roamed over to her. She squeezed the burgundy leather ball in her palm and then threw it down the lawn; Hugo was halfway down the garden when the ball hit the hot grass- that's when Arthur noticed her.

He smiled at the dog's clumsiness, as he held onto the branch of the tree above him; Morgana glanced over to see him stare at the silly hound tearing the ball to pieces on the grass.

"Well, well, well…" Arthur had mused when he strode out from under the shade of the tree to her. He still wore that same mischievous smile upon his lips; Morgana had come to the conclusion that it was a permanent expression on his daring face.

"The _Princess_ graces my presence." He said quite arrogantly, if it was anyone else she would have taken great pleasure in calling one of the guards or to tell her father of his impoliteness. But she sensed the joking edge to his words, and if anything that _smile_ of his had her smitten once again.

"Very funny." She sneered back as a reply, brushing off his mocking jeer.

"Forgive me…" He laughed as he looked at her more prominently now, his mocking was gone but his good humour remained. "I am just curious as to why you did not reveal your true identity yesterday…"

Morgana looked at him with the same smile still apparent on her lips, "As I had said before; nothing is in a mere name." She had told him smugly, and he gave her a look to say he expected as much.

"Don't tell my father by the way…" She cut him off before he could speak; her tone a more anxious one now. "About our… _meeting_ in the wood yesterday, if he knew I was even that far away from the castle or if it was you…" She spat out, thinking she had already said too much.

"I understand." Arthur nodded, knowing his father would be the complete same, although he wouldn't get scolded for venturing too far away, he understood with girls it was slightly different, he had a sword for protection, yesterday in the woods, she had nothing.

"And me?" He brought up, when he realised she had made point he had not addressed. "What would your father have said if I had told him we had met?" He raised a brow, curious now.

"Well… He would have been very upset with me, and… _well_…" Morgana made a distorted face, as though she didn't want to say the rest of the sentence, but he wasn't going to move until she did. "You're a Pendragon." She said it finally, as though the words seeping through her lips were treacherous and bad, and they were, in her father's eyes.

"Ahh…" Arthur nodded now; it was a blindly obvious answer after all.

"I'm sorry…" Morgana shook her head in annoyance with herself, she was being exceedingly rude.

"No, no… Don't be." He told her, he had expected as much, it was only a matter of time. Gorlois wasn't stupid, as his own father wasn't. Neither the Pendragon's nor the Le Fay's crossed paths unless they wanted something, and usually that consisted of a crown and a royal title. One in which Uther was adamant upon getting, so he had sent his son; it was only fair that Gorlois grow suspicious.

Morgana looked back at him again with a soft smile, it was true shame that they had to be enemies, and she was rather fond of him.

"So, what would he say to you speaking to me here, now?" Arthur questioned with a teasing tone, it made her heart flutter; she felt foolish for it.

"Nothing." She replied blankly. "It is my garden; I cannot help if you just _happen_ to be in it too." She told him smugly again, a playful smirk clear on her crimson lips. "I doubt however, that he'd take the idea of me being in the forest with a Pendragon as lightly." She said coyly. "He might get the wrong idea."

"Especially if you _had_ of shared my saddle." Arthur replied just as playfully.

They shared a laugh then, laughing foolishly at the joke they had just made, or the allusion both of them now had in each of their minds, Morgana was surprised at how she didn't find the idea completely surprising either, that realisation scared her.

"It's a shame you know…" Arthur began once their laugher had fizzled out.

"What is?" Morgana raised a brow in confusion.

"That your father dislikes me so much, I'm quite fond of you." He looked at her now, his lips curled into a half smile, and his blue eyes seemed to gleam.

Morgana scoffed a little, not sure which way he meant the previous statement. "I agree." She said finally nodding in approval. "I would rather be your friend than your enemy." She gave him a smile of her own now, mixed between that of dally and sweetness.

"Who says we have to be enemies?" He questioned when she had finished; looking at her now he understood he could possibly never hate her.

"Your father and mine." She told him as though it were fact, and it was; sadly.

"I am not my father." He stated, in truth he could never please his father, no matter what he did or what he said. He had done everything Uther had asked him, trained Knights; went days without a hot meal to track down magical beasts; but if anything ever went wrong Arthur was always to blame. His father had sent him here, _forced_ him even and now he was stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea. For a beautiful woman stood before him, but being with her; truly, would anger his father greatly, and being without her would make his heart yearn until he was old and grey- although he'd never admit it.

"Then why are you here?" Morgana asked, feeling rude and arrogant for saying it, but here he was before her claiming he was '_different_', when really he wasn't that much different at all, surely. He was in Avalon, and Pendragon didn't come here unless they wanted something.

Arthur was taken aback by her boldness all of a sudden, she looked quite annoyed now, and he realised why; she wasn't stupid. It would only take a matter of seconds for her to realise what he was up to, if her father hadn't put her up to already.

"As you would rightly know; I may not agree with my father, but I cannot disobey him." Arthur told her, his words cutting but true all the same.

"Well, be a gentleman then." She began haughtily. "And discover the art of deception." She didn't exactly know what she meant by that comment, but she realised that it had been her conclusion to the conversation altogether. Was she _teasing_ him? She made a mental note to stop letting the sun melt her brain, it was terribly irritating when she said something from the heart that her brain didn't agree with.

She turned, shooting him a smirk, it was trifle and playful, and Arthur found that his serious, impatient tone had dropped entirely, and a stupid big smile sat upon his lips as he watched her eye him with what seemed like satisfaction, whether it was for herself or for him; he didn't know.

Arthur watched her stride away, she was graceful and elegant as her dress swayed behind her, the sun's rays danced off the skirt of her dress and made it sparkle and gleam, and her hair lay in ripples down her back, it seem more glossy than ever, and he found himself getting strange impulses throughout his body as he watched her.

"Hugo…" She had called at the gate of the garden, and the gangly pup had dashed after her, but she had turned to give him another smile, before she was gone.

It was then Arthur realised why he was here. And it wasn't to win her silly crown or steal her father's royalty. It was to take the Princesses heart, and never give it back. And in return he would give her his own.

…

"Morgana, don't slouch." Vivienne pruned at the dinner table that evening. She tapped her daughter on the wrist and Morgana swallowed the contents in her mouth.

"I'm not slouching." Morgana replied with great annoyance, did her mother always have to make a show of her in front of guests?

"Yes you are-"

"Come now." Gorlois said at once, trying to brush off his wife's silliness and get onto more pressing matters.

Morgana shot an embarrassed smile at Arthur who sat across from her, he returned it thankfully and when he wasn't looking she shot her mother a very nasty look, although Vivienne was wiser than to comment on it, given that Gorlois would only publically embarrass her in front of their guest.

"You must send Uther my good wishes, boy." Gorlois said with a painted smile as he looked to Arthur who sipped at his soup. There was no denying the young man felt out of place, but then so did Morgana.

"I will- as he sends his." Arthur nodded with a gracious smile, Gorlois merely chuckled. He wasn't used to having company much younger than him, company that didn't get his strong sense of humour or ones that didn't approve of his type of banter.

"My greatest apologies for being late to breakfast this morning." Arthur confided, but Gorlois merely chuckled again and brushed him off.

"Not to worry- you're here now." He said with a merry grin, before he slapped his goblet on the table for a servant to quickly come over and fill it with more wine.

"What brings you to Avalon?" Gorlois asked after he took a sip of the hot red liquid that made his cheeks burn red and made him giddy with humour.

"My father sends me to the lands of Mora." Arthur told him with a soft smile, shooting a quick glance at Morgana who smiled admirably at him.

"Whatever for?" Gorlois asked, although it wasn't his place Gorlois wasn't one to beat around the bush, especially not with a Pendragon.

"Visting." Arthur muttered into his cup, no denying the lies within his words.

"_Visiting_?" Gorlois asked before he burst into an eruption of laughter. "You'll find no preppy lordlings like yourself in Mora." He cackled like an old fool. But he wasn't a fool; he was on guard- Uther Pendragon's son dined with him tonight.

Morgana felt uncomfortable now, her father had drunk too much wine and she knew by the direction of his tone that things would not end well.

"Yes…" Arthur said sheepishly. "Well, I do have friends below the social standard too." He said, trying to joke and smile but he felt nauseated. Everything was not going as planned.

"You want my girl." Gorlois said at once, his tone now angry and serious as he glared at Arthur over his goblet. Vivienne piped up from her soup and gasped, not half realising what her husband had send, but knowing finely that it wasn't anything he should have.

Morgana got up and put a hand on her father's shoulder. "Father-" She tried stopping him, before he said something hurtful and harmful- before swords were drew and blood was spilled.

"You want my girl so you can have her crown!" Gorlois snapped aggressively, Vivienne tried hushing him up before it was all too late, but he couldn't handle his wine and never could. Gorlois shook his wife off angrily however and continued in his thickening rage.

"No, no." Arthur raised his hands in defence. He had in truth been sent here for that very purpose. To worm his way into the Le Fay household, to steal a crown and rule as King one day, but that was what his father wanted, not him.

"Well you can get out! And you can tell Uther Pendragon the next time he comes sniffing at my door he'll get more than he bargained for!" Gorlois said bitterly, there was a deep, hidden rage in his tone that scared Arthur- but he was not raised to fear.

"Sire-" Arthur began, but he was cut off by the drunken King.

"OUT!" Gorlois yelled hotly. "I want you gone from my Kingdom come dawn!"

"Father!" Morgana whined in disapproval. Her father had gotten drunk on the wine and ruined everything. Now he was the smaller person in Uther Pendragon's eyes. He had let Uther's snivelling ways get to him, and he was taking it out on the wrong person.

"This will not end well, Gorlois!" Vivienne stood up and glared at her husband angrily, getting up and throwing her napkin down with annoyance.

"Shut up woman!" Gorlois growled with aggression, degrading his wife. "Bring me more wine!" He snapped at a nearby servant. "Now!"

Vivienne escaped through a backdoor, and Arthur had just left through the main entrance of the hall, whilst Gorlois glared around him like a mad man, sipping his wine and cursing at his servants. He may have a delightful sense of humour but he had a wicked temper, and a scornful taste for wine.

Morgana escaped too, but after Arthur. She felt embarrassed and ashamed at her father's words, yet she expected no less. And now Arthur would return to Uther and tell him everything, fuelling Uther for more reasons to begin war with Avalon, even if her father claimed he would never do so, yet she couldn't believe him now, he was the same man who told her that he liked to keep Uther sweet.

"Arthur!" She called as she caught sight of him halfway up the stairwell.

He turned and looked at her, although that same accomplished smile had vanished from his lips. It was clear he wanted out, he'd be mad not to leave when Gorlois was on the prowl; the man had more wine in him she was sure if he was pierced with a sword he'd leak wine and not blood.

"I'll be leaving shortly Milady." Arthur informed her before he turned to continue to his guest bedroom to collect his small number of things.

"No, wait!" Morgana said rushing up the stairs behind him and catching him on the arm; she needed to explain.

"I'm terribly sorry- my father." She panted, out of breath and flushed from the running, he looked and her before shaking his head.

"Not at all, don't worry." He nodded, clearly he didn't want to spend too much time around her, in case Gorlois saw, and he was not a man he wanted to cross.

"Please- I feel so embarrassed, you were his guest and he treated you appallingly." Morgana explained, trying to endorse the high level of annoyance in her tone, she had hoped for him to stay another day, but now her father had ruined it, yet of course she _should_ be happy to see him leave.

"Don't be Milady- please."

"Stop calling me that, my name is Morgana." She told him, understanding that now he probably felt out of place. She should be siding with her father, she should be helping him throw Arthur out into the streets and washing her hands with him, but she wasn't, and she could see why he found that strange.

"_Morgana_," Arthur nodded. "I have upset your father and you, so I will leave." Arthur told her, it was obvious she had informed him of their chat in the gardens earlier, why else would be snap at him like he had?

"You said you weren't like your father, yes?" Morgana asked, discarding his last comment.

Arthur nodded as a reply, wondering where this was going possibly.

"Well, I am not like mine- you have upset no one, the only thing upset is my father's stomach after all that wine!" She told him, begging him to understand. She liked Arthur, he seemed nice and friendly, and everything he father said he wasn't. Maybe that's why she liked him so much, because she couldn't have him. But then she was always the rebelling type.

Arthur smiled at her, before letting out a small laugh, she returned it thankfully.

"I haven't known you long, but I miss your smile already." Arthur admitted, seeing her lips curl up in that sweet smile made him feel feelings he wasn't sure he had.

Morgana's smile grew bigger. He was so sweet, and now he was going and she was sure she'd never see him again, not after Uther found out. The next time she saw him would probably be when his blood stained the battlement grounds, when he was lifeless. She let a small yelp out, she couldn't dream of seeing his glorious sapphire eyes lifeless, without their gleam.

"Are you alright?" Arthur raised a brow, her face suddenly seemed more panicked and alarmed, as though she was lost in a long train and thought and finally remembered something horrid.

"We'll never meet again, will we?" Morgana told him, feeling so utterly foolish and pathetic when she did.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders. "Depends." He told her. "On a battlement ground maybe." He chuckled at his words, but in truth there was no humour about it. He doubted his father would go to war, not now when his army numbers where so low, he would return to Camelot and live his life whilst his father came up with more cunning plans to win the crown, growing bitterer about it each day.

"Where will you go?" Morgana asked, knowing that Camelot was too far for a nights travel, she only wished her father hadn't been so stupid, Arthur would do no harm staying until morning.

"There are Taverns and Inns between here and Camelot, I'll be fine." Arthur nodded with a soft smile. "Most likely the same one I stayed in the night before last." Arthur concluded solemnly, there was no point denying that he had been sent here by his father, the cat was well out of the bag now.

"And which one was that?" Morgana pulled her face into a face of confusion and curiosity.

"The Prancing Pony." Arthur nodded finally, realising how stupid her sounded, what a horrible, silly name for an Inn.

That's when Morgana heard footsteps approaching, one she recognised. They were the awful clanks and clicks of her handmaiden Greta, who was most likely coming to shoo her to bed as though she were a child again. But Morgana knew she had to get out of sight, or at least get away from Arthur, Greta would take great pleasure in telling her father she was fraternizing with the enemy.

"I have to go…" Morgana said at once, looking to Arthur and not really sure what she was expecting, for him to embrace her and whisper his everlasting devotion? She was such an idiot.

"Be safe." She said finally, feeling she was giving too much emotion away in one single gesture, more than she should be, however Arthur looked as hurt as she did, wrapped up in the bittersweet moment.

Morgana gave him a last smile before she went to dart off down a corridor, when he caught her wrist and made eye contact with her, the last time she'd see his sapphire eyes looking so warmly at her, people changed and _if_ she ever did see Arthur again she was sure he'd be colder towards her, they had to be enemies after all.

"I do hope we meet again, but not as enemies." Arthur smiled at her, admitting a strange sense of feelings that seemed to be clogging his insides now, and he had a weird throb in his chest at the thought of watching her walk by him, the thought of not seeing her again.

…

_The wind sailed through her hair, as the grey sky loomed above her. She looked down upon Avalon, the battlefields bloody and filled with lifeless bodies. A collision of red and blue cloaks sailed in the wind, fallen warriors who lost their life for a silly crown._

_Morgana seemed to be the only living soul in the entire Kingdom. There was a deathly silence looming, one that petrified her beyond her wits and made her wish she was lying amongst the lifeless bodies too, because then she wouldn't be alone and afraid._

_She was wearing what seemed to be a lilac nightdress, how she had gotten here, looking down on the battlements, she had no idea, in fact she had no recollection of anything apart from the cold, horrible feeling she felt. Never more had she wanted someone to embrace her and tell her everything was going to be alright, she was alone now. Alone in her Kingdom, everyone seemed to be dead and they seemed to have died because of her._

_Panic quenched her body, as she set off running down the grassy bank, it was then she realised she was barefooted, the odd twinge and stab off a stone or a twig digging into her bare skin made her flinch and yelp a little in pain. But the feel of the soft, green grass between her toes felt heavenly, and she knew that was the only comforting feeling she would have._

_Now she was on the battlements, dead bodies scattered around her like broken toys. Everything was so vivid then, lifeless faces staring up at her, with great swords pierced through their stomachs, pinning them to the ground. The blood was still crimson and warm, it leaked everywhere and turned the brown soil even darker, it scared her more than anything._

_She wanted to cry and to run away from the horrific scene, to flee from these awful images that she knew would never leave her. The cloaks these men were wearing were drenched in blood; the Pendragon red was an even darker shade, the golden embodied dragon now a brown and barely recognisable. The Le Fay blue was a brown, sticky red and the black embodied stag wasn't even visible anymore._

_Her heart sprung in her chest like a wild leopard as her eyes scanned over the bodies that lay around her, she stepped over them carelessly, looking and searching for something, __**someone.**__ The blood that graced the floor leaked through her toes and the bottoms of her nightdress were sopping in the crimson red that pooled over everything like a vicious plague, still warm and flowing._

_Then, her eyes seemed to land on what she was looking for. She fell to her knees before a lifeless body, lying on his side, his cloak buried beneath him as his blonde hair lay scattered and swarmed in the wind too, like hers did. She pulled his shoulder so he lay on his back, his hair was drenched in the falling mist, scattered with splits of the red blood that saturated everything, and then she saw his eyes. _

_His wide, beautiful sapphire blue eyes, gazing up at her lifeless. Their twinkle was gone, that loving sparkle she remembered, it was gone, like he was and then the true feeling of loneliness sunk in._

…

Morgana bolted upright in her bed, covered in a cold sweat as she panted cries of despair, muttering words of hurt and discomfort. She was alone in her bedroom, her room hung in darkness as rain battered off the windows. There was a scary chill as she remembered her nightmare, of seeing Arthur lying on a battlement ground, cold and dead.

Her dream was so lonely, and now she craved another being more so than ever, like when she was a girl she would run into her parents bedroom crying about her dreams and they would ward them off and she'd fall asleep in between them, but now she was a grown woman, when she had a nightmare she just had to deal with it.

Morgana slowly lay her head back down on the pillow, she still felt unsettled and cold, and she shivered and shook, thinking of her dream and how vivid it seemed, almost as though it was real, like a memory. Arthur had joked about meeting him on a battle ground again, but she doubted she could handle it if that fantasy would turn to reality. There was something too deeply unsettling about this nightmare; she wanted to see Arthur again to make sure he was alright, what if her dream was prophetic in some ways? That Arthur might be lying dead on the side of a forest path or hurt, soaked and cold with rain.

Without realising it however she moved from the bed and quickly slipped her navy blue dress on from earlier, before wrapping a crimson cloak over her and pulling the hood around her ravenous waves. Hugo looked up from his bed and whined at her, she shooed him off before he settled back into the slumber he was submerged in, before she left her room, to the dark chilling corridors of her home.

Morgana shivered now with discomfort and cold, a wind was blowing through the open windows not graced with glass to contain the authenticity. The sides of the floors were soaked from the torrential rain outside; the burning torches that once lit the hallways had flickered out.

Luckily, no one was up at this hour, even Greta had retreated, her father no doubt would be in a very deep sleep from all his drinking, and her mother would be kept up with his despicable snoring, but she wouldn't leave the room.

Morgana had only the guards to worry about, but unfortunately for them she lived in this castle all her life, she knew every trap door and secret escape, being the Princess she also had access to most of the keys.

She crept down the stairwell, seeing a guard leaning against the wall, snoring quite loudly, she felt quite sorry for him, having to guard the main entrance on a night like this, cold and rainy. But, she had no time to feel sympathetic for a man who would sell her out to her father as soon as he realised what she was up to.

Morgana tip toed past the guard and finally made it outside into the Courtyard, where she walked down some steps at the side; the servant's passageway into the town, where stalls would adorn the streets come morning and the whole of Avalon would be booming with people. Now, they lay empty and lifeless, the rain had made the road thick and muddy, her feet getting stuck a few times in the gloopy mud, and the wind had blew all the street lamps out, every house lay in darkness, it was dreadfully eerie

She found the blacksmiths shed, the door was ajar and a donkey and horse stood asleep, the donkey was used to turn the wheel to light the hearth, the horse was the blacksmiths own, kept in here to shield him from the awful weather she was sure.

The ebony stallion was a bit apprehensive at first, he growled and sniffed loudly, and had she not pet his mane softly she was sure he'd wind back on his hind legs and kick her with his hoof. Stallions were dreadfully moody beasts, she could only hope she didn't pass a mare on her way, otherwise she'd be left with a very aggressive horse or no horse at all.

She saddled him quickly and pulled black leather reigns on, as well as fastening the girdle before she guided the beast outside. He was a stubborn old thing that needed more than a good shove to get him out into the rain, of course only a sensible creature would turn down the offer to gallop in such weather.

Finally, Morgana mounted him and kicked his ribs hard with the heels of her boots, sending him into a swift gallop against the wind; she needed to be out of sight before someone in the village saw, using the palace stables were too risking and plagued with guards, she'd never have gotten out the main gate. She'd return the horse come morning when she came back anyhow, no harm would be done.

…

The winds whistled through the trees, it was spooky and cold. She was frozen with fear, afraid to move her saddle or kick the horse harder. She kept down low, the wisps of the horse's mane tickling her face. Every now and then she was sure she heard a second horse behind her; that hooves were crashing against the forest floor like hers, but when she built up the courage to turn around, nothing was there. It was just her imagination playing tricks on her. Still, she wanted past these woods as soon as possible and she swore never to return to them again. It was as though eyes were watching her through the trees, that something or someone might jump out of the darkness and take her away.

When she lay on the cool grass that summers day, napping under a tree when Arthur finally graced her with his presence, this wood seemed heavenly, light and beautiful, the green leaves would sway in the trees branches and daisies and wildflowers would bloom on the grass. Now the trees whispered and sailed in the wind, any sign of colour was gone as though she were in a land of black and white, everything drenched with rain and thick with mud, she had never been more petrified, this had been a terrible idea.

A sigh of relief escaped her though, when the thick mass of trees fizzled out and she was graced with a small town, a lot shabbier than Avalon, but it seemed to have more life thank God.

Every building seemed to be a tavern or an Inn, and music bellowed loudly, with laughter and cheers of drunken men. Morgana just smiled, happy to be around people and not be alone, where fear would consume her.

Then she understood that she needed to pull her cloak even tighter around her head, she didn't need a passer-by noticing a Princess in such places. She tied her horse up at the side of the road, under the shelter of an Inn, he seemed happy of the rest, as the rain battled down on everything. She wandered a little farther, looking at the signs above the buildings. 'The Robin's Nest' 'The Lions Roar' and 'The Grand House' where all the names of Taverns and Inns, the signs hanging on by a thread and the little paintings were smudged and worn, she'd be lucky to a find 'The Prancing Pony' amongst them.

But she did. It was hidden in the middle of two bigger Taverns and people cackled and giggled drunkenly from inside, it was then she entered apprehensively, hoping no one would notice her.

It was stuffed full of tavern wenches and burley old men sipping ale and wine, as a fiddler pranced through the crowd playing merry tunes many people danced to. The servers were too occupied with new customers to notice her slip up the stairs to the bedrooms of the Inn, where she could only hope to find Arthur.

It was then she hit a dilemma, which room was his? There were approximately six doors in the creaky old hall with a low roof, the walls were dark wood and a long trail of carpet lay on the floor, it was worn and bore more holes than her favourite skirt.

Morgana held her breath and knocked on one and opened, she was graced a large man lying in bed snoring loudly. He grumbled at her before she shot back out and closed the door, fearing what the next room contained.

She knocked on the second door and walked in, holding her eyes shut in case she was faced with an unpleasant image, but she heard nothing and opened her eyes, and her heart leaped in her chest when she did.

"Morgana?" Arthur questioned, looking quite puzzled as he sat on the side of the bed, wearing a white nightshirt and brown leather sleeping pants. He seemed to be only getting into bed, because he was fully alert and didn't even seem drunk in the slightest.

"Arthur." She sighed with relief, closing the door in case someone heard them, she didn't want royal attention, not tonight or ever for that matter.

"Wh- What're you doing here?" He asked, dumbfounded.

"I… I don't know…" Morgana shrugged her shoulders and looked away from him, making a face of bewilderment, why was she here?

That's when Morgana was stuck. She couldn't exactly answer that, given that she had no idea why she was here herself. She had a nightmare about Arthur dead in her arms, in truth she came here craving his company and to know he was alright, because oddly she felt discontented to learn he might not be, but he was.

"Is your father here?" Arthur asked at once, the annoyance was clear in his tone when he did.

"No, no-" Morgana explained, holding her hands up in defence. "I came alone."

"In that weather?" Arthur gestured to his leaking roof at the far side of this pokey, dark room. "You're soaking!" He realised suddenly, to find her red cloak sticking to her skin, and her hood had fallen down, revealing her ravenous hair which still managed to get quite wet despite being hidden under a hood.

"Come here." He got up quickly and took her cloak off, he had no idea however how he was going to dry it, it was so cold up here and without a fire.

"I can't stay…" She muttered, yet still let him take her cloak off.

"Why?" Arthur asked. "Why're you here, does your father know you're here?" Arthur questioned with much confusion as he hung her cloak up on the door to dry out, she stood in the centre of the room still, seeming bashful and sheepish, avoiding his question like the plague.

He walked over to her and gripped her by the arms, looking directly into her face. "What's happened?" She was starting to scare him, why on earth would the Princess of Avalon come seeking him the middle of the night.

"I had a nightmare…" Morgana admitted, feeling like a complete and utter fool when she did, like a child seeking attention. It seemed stupid that she could come to Arthur, a man she knew for all of a day when she was scared. And it seemed even sillier that she would be scared over a nightmare after traveling through a forest alone in the night, in the rain.

Arthur let go of her immediately and sighed, this wasn't adding up.

"No, no!" Morgana tried explaining when he seemed irritated. "I had a nightmare and I saw you dead… that you'd died in battle, I just needed to make sure… you… where…" Morgana trailed off. Now that she'd finally spoken about her fear she felt like an idiot. Anyone else would have gotten a goblet of water and went back to sleep, but she had to go run away from home, steal a horse and gallop off here in the middle of the night to a man she hardly knew.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous those forests are?" Arthur growled angrily. "Bandits plague those woods come nightfall, you could have been kidnapped, raped, _murdered_!" Arthur yelled at her, that she would be as silly to come venturing after him, especially so late at night.

"I'm sorry." Morgana admitted, understanding now that he had pointed out, she was stupid, the thought of returning through those woods now, petrified her, but he obviously didn't want her company, so she'd have to leave now.

"I just needed to see you were okay." Morgana told him, feeling like a fool now, he had shouted at her like a child and she felt all of seven years old again, in the wrong and bashful. She turned to grab her cloak from the door and leave, when he caught her wrist, something she reckoned he was getting too fond of doing.

"And do you think I'm going to let you travel back in that weather, alone, at this time of night?" Arthur asked her, raising a brow, she caught the cheekiness in his voice, but she didn't want to point it out in case she was just imagining it.

Morgana shrugged her shoulders and tried to snag free of his grip, before he smirked at her. "Don't be stupid Morgana, stay here and I'll ride you halfway come dawn."

"I don't want to trouble you." Morgana shook her head and made for the door again, but he stood in front of her so she could not pass.

Arthur was aware he had upset her, or made her feel stupid, and in some ways he was glad, because he had made her realise how silly she had been and how much danger she had put herself into, for him. He wouldn't have her risking her life for him.

"What if I said I was sorry for yelling?" Arthur raised a brow playfully at her.

"Oh shut up, I'm not a child." Morgana half laughed at him, she already felt stupid enough.

"Come on, don't be silly." Arthur told her, pulling her away from the door. She didn't decline his offer this time though; thankfully he wasn't as mad as she thought.

"I'll take the floor and you can have the bed." Arthur told her as he went to dig out his famous Pendragon cloak, a suitable thing to lie in; it was large enough to keep him warm at least on the cold floor.

"Oh don't be silly!" Morgana protested. "No, no- it's freezing!" She told him, she had witnessed the cold first hand out in the rain, and in here it was no warmer.

"Well, what do you suggest?" Arthur raised a brow, willing to hear her grand plan. That they sleep together? In a single bed? The idea was preposterous.

"I'll take the floor." She told him, she was the intruder after all.

"Don't be stupid, I'm not having the Princess of Avalon sleep on a cold, wooden floor!" Arthur scoffed, but she was upon his then, pressing her fingers to his lips.

"Shush! People will hear you!" She scolded, feeling a smile warm her lips, and a small laugh escaped, he shared it with her.

"I'll take the floor and you the bed, end of!" She told him finally, pulling his cloak off him, to curl up in the floor, dreading the prospect but in truth she had no choice; she was never going to steal his bed, and it was either the floor or that dark, lonely forest which made the floor look heavenly.

Arthur sighed and got into the rickety old bed as he watched her curl up in a ball, wrapped in his cloak. She wouldn't last there, he knew it. But unless he wanted the feisty shouting's of a scorned woman he best not interrupt. He'd give her five minutes, ten at the most, before he'd go and snatch the cloak off her and demand she take his bed.

Minutes past, minutes that felt like hours. Somewhere along the lines Arthur must have fallen asleep, but he jerked up in realisation when he finally opened his eyes again. His candle had flickered out, leaving the room in darkness, yet he knew he hadn't been sleeping long because the loud shouting's of the drunken men downstairs could still be heard.

He looked over to Morgana, who had fallen asleep on his cloak, curled up in a foetal position, shivering lightly. Arthur got up with little haste; lightly he stepped across the floor to her, kneeling down he scooped her into his arms and she groaned slightly, still raptured by slumber. He carried her the short distance to the bed, before setting her down in the mattress, trying to prise the red cloak off her, that's when she woke up.

Arthur quietened her from protest the moment she realised what had happened. He wasn't sure what she was angrier about, the fact that he had to sleep on the floor or that he had carried her. But still, she didn't seem overly mad, still drowsy from sleep.

Her eyes fluttered shut in an instant before he grabbed his hand, still tired and sleepy, as was he and they didn't have long before they'd have to venture out back to Avalon again.

"Sleep here." She grumbled, and he wasn't sure if he heard her right before her eyes opened and she tried her best to stifle a yawn.

"What here? In the same bed?" Arthur was quite shocked at what she was implying.

"You shout at me earlier for going into a forest where there could be rapists, I don't think you are one." Morgana raised a brow at him; even in this tired state she still contained her cheekiness.

Arthur didn't question it anymore, instead he crawled in beside her, wondering what his father would think he If knew, and Morgana was thinking what her father would think if he only knew.

Luckily none of them did. She just needed to ensure she got back to Avalon before the sun rose, she had faith she would. And now she lay curled beside the man that was a stranger to her a little over two days ago. What would her mother think? But she didn't care; all that mattered was that Arthur was safe, here with her.

"Goodnight." Arthur told her, looking down upon her eyes as they squeezed into the bed, she couldn't deny it was much warmer now.

"Goodnight." She replied with a smile, looking at his sapphire eyes again, it was here she finally felt content.

And it was like that they fell asleep, wrapped between the covers and a Pendragon cloak. They were not strangers anymore.

_**A/N**_

**Okay, sorry for the delay in updating but I think this rather long chapter will make up for it. This chapter was the most difficult because I had to write the transition between Morgana and Arthur being strangers to something more. The end was a risky end really because I didn't want to be **_**too**_** forward but then I couldn't drag it out any either. However, tell me your opinions and please R&R! :D x**


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